The Letter
by silverbranches
Summary: "Dear Mary Margaret Blanchard..."  Before leaving for Boston, Kathryn mentioned that she wrote letters to both David and Mary Margaret.  We all know what happened to David's letter.  But what does Mary Margaret do when she finds hers?  Set after 1x13.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: The story idea is mine. The characters are not.**

Mary Margaret opened her eyes, the action tearing her eyelashes apart. She had fallen into a deep sleep at some point in the middle of her crying jag. She turned her head, focusing her attention on the clock, where bright red numbers proclaimed it was 1 o'clock in the morning. She groaned – there was no way she'd be able to get back to sleep now. Mary Margaret decided to make some hot chocolate. Hopefully, the warm drink would be able to send her back to dreamland.

Quietly she slipped out of the bed. On the other side, Emma had fallen asleep as well. At times like this, Mary Margaret was grateful to have a roommate. She didn't think she could bear being alone with only her misery to keep her company.

She was still craving a mug of hot chocolate. Stepping into the kitchen, she put a pot of milk on the stove. Once it had been boiled and poured into a cup, she added the chocolate and a dash of cinnamon, then sat down to enjoy her beverage.

Savoring the way the warm liquid slid down her throat, her mind flashed to David. She wondered if he was asleep at this hour, or if he too was suffering from insomnia. She stared at the telephone, wondering what would happen if she dialed his number, heard his voice over the telephone line, if she…

She stopped that train of thought. _Bad Mary Margaret,_ she scolded herself. _Don't think of him. It'll only make your heartbreak a thousand times worse._

Desperately, she cast her eyes about the room, looking for something to distract herself from thoughts of _him._ Her gaze fell upon a large envelope lying on the floor. It appeared to have been pushed under the door, probably sometime after she and Emma had fallen asleep.

Picking it up, she noticed her name was written in neat script on the back. Who, she wondered, would be writing to her? Pulling out the letter inside, she allowed the envelope to drop to the ground as her eyes roamed over the words on the paper.

_Dear Mary Margaret Blanchard,_

_ I'm not going to start this letter off by apologizing. You and David both hurt me by not telling me the truth. I shouldn't have to apologize for something that I had every right to do._

_ However, I suppose I should be thanking you. I know that sounds weird, but it's true. If you and David hadn't become…involved, I never would have thought to take a step back and open my eyes. I never really thought about why I was trying so hard to convince David to fall in love with me when his heart clearly belongs with you. Keeping him with me – that would just make him miserable for the rest of his life._

_ He's completely and totally in love with you, Mary Margaret. It's in his eyes every time he looks at you, or hears your voice, or even when your name is mentioned. I used to fool myself that sooner or later, he would start looking at me that way. I never wanted to see it directed at you, so I never really looked. But now…. now I can see it. Now I see that the only person he'll ever look that way at is you. _

_ My plans are to leave Storybrooke. I'm going to Boston, to try and make a fresh start for myself somewhere new. So I give you my blessings. Be with David, because you two are the perfect match for each other. All I ask is that you make him happy._

_ I hope you know how lucky you are Mary Margaret, to have that type of love. Maybe I'll be able to find someone in Boston whom I can love the same way._

_ After all this, I hope we can be friends. Take care of David._

_~Kathryn_

Mary Margaret stared at the letter in shock for a heartbeat. Two heartbeats. Three. Then the paper joined the envelope on the floor as she rushed out the door.

She had somebody she needed to see.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I don't own Once Upon a Time.**

_ Images flitted through his mind. Kathryn yelling at him, betrayal evident in her eyes. Mary Margaret's tear – streaked face. Armored men with black feathers adorning their helmets, raising their swords…_

David woke up gasping from his nightmare. After untangling himself from his sheets, he glanced at his bedside clock. It was 1 o'clock in the morning. An hour no decent person would be awake at.

There was no way he'd be able to get back to sleep now, not with his nightmare still fresh in his mind. What he really needed was a hot drink, to banish the last remnants of his dream.

Opening the kitchen cupboard, his hand hovered over the hot chocolate mix. He was about to pull out one of the packets when he remembered that Mary Margaret loved hot chocolate, with whipped cream and a dash of cinnamon. Sometimes, when he kissed her, he could taste the spice that had lingered on her lips.

David shook his head, trying to dispel the memory from his mind. Thinking of Mary Margaret was _not_ the best thing to do right now.

Ignoring the hot chocolate powder, he grabbed a teabag of Earl Gray. After he had added the right amount of milk and sugar to his water, he sat down. Just as he was about to take a sip of the soothing drink, he was interrupted by a loud banging on the door.

_Rap. Rap. Rap. Rapraprapraprap…._

David yanked open the door, hoping whoever was being so inconsiderate didn't wake up the neighbors.

He expected there to be some teenage troublemaker, who ran away the second the door opened. What he _didn't_ expect was a shivering Mary Margaret, devoid of any scarf or hat to keep herself warm.

"Mary Margaret!" David exclaimed, immediately letting her in. Even though it was nearing March, the weather was still freezing. "What are you doing here?"

"I…had…to…see…you," she chattered, gratefully taking the seat he offered. Within a few minutes, a warm fire was crackling in the fireplace, and she let the heat chase away the cold.

"Without a scarf, hat, or gloves?" he scolded. "At least you had enough sense to put on a jacket before you left."

David focused on getting her warm, letting his worry for her take over his mind. If he did that, then he could forget how close she was, or his love for her. He could forget that she herself had said that they couldn't be together, even though that was all he wanted.

After five minutes of silence, David felt like he had to say something. "Kathryn's gone," he blurted out. "She left, to go to - "

" – Boston," Mary Margaret finished. "I know."

"You know?" David was confused. He himself had only found out when Kathryn had told him, before walking out the door with suitcases in hand.

Mary Margaret nodded. "She wrote me a letter. She told me a lot of things, like…"

She fell silent, and became preoccupied with looking at her hands.

"Like…" David let the end of his sentence dangle, waiting for her to finish it.

"Like how you love me," she said. "But I already knew that. She also gave us her blessings, and told us to be together."

"Really?" David's heart lifted. If she rushed all the way here to tell him this, then that obviously meant something. Maybe this wouldn't end up being the worst day of his life.

Mary Margaret looked at him, her expression soft and a little bit shy. "Really," she echoed. Then a torrent of words came pouring out from her. "But that doesn't mean we should start a relationship right away. I mean, we still need to work on the whole "honesty in a relationship" thing. Besides, the whole town – except for Emma, of course – thinks that I'm a tramp and a home wrecker so we might have to wait a while before we can publicly announce the relationship, and – "

David had stopped fully listening after she had uttered that single word. _Really_. He could be with the woman he loved, and not feel the tiniest amount of guilt. Overfilled with joy, he lifted Mary Margaret's face to his and kissed her, cutting her off in the middle of her sentence.

This kiss wasn't passionate, with tongues and lust and heat. Nor was it a chaste kiss, a simple brush of lips. It was a kiss that spoke of all the love they held for each other. It was a kiss that completely surpassed all the other kisses they had shared, and it was a kiss that spoke of a thousand more kisses in the future.

When they finally pulled back, their breathing was harsh and slightly uneven.

"Forget about the town," David whispered, his hands still cradling her face. "Forget about what they think, or what they say. All that matters is me and you, right?"

For an answer, Mary Margaret linked her hands behind his neck and pulled him in for another kiss. David lost himself in the feel of her soft lips moving beneath his, in the spicy taste of cinnamon on her breath.

This was turning out to be the best day of his entire life.

_Fin. _

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><p><strong>AN: I'd like to thank everyone who reviewed, or added this story to their Favorites list!**


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